


Fly Me Home

by Pesto



Series: Icarus [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, Fantasy, Gavin Lewis Reed, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Gavin Reed Being an Idiot, Gavin Reed-centric, Gen, HIS MIDDLE NAME IS LEWIS, M/M, Wingfic, are they lovey dovey?, but not yet, does connor have the hots for gavin? probably, gavin has the hots for connor but won't believe himself, gavin reed likes chicken soup 2k18, gavin reed likes microwave breakfast burritos 2k18, it's just nice okay, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-17 08:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pesto/pseuds/Pesto
Summary: From the ages fourteen to sixteen every person would go through a Manifestation-- a spontaneous appearance of wings that connected to the Avis muscles humans are born with. To not Manifest was absurdly rare. To be Unmanifested meant being stared at, meant being discriminated against. It meant never even having the chance to fly. It meant never living a normal life.Gavin Lewis Reed was one of two Unmanifested individuals in the state of Michigan.





	1. Chapter 1

It was one of those days Gavin decided to stay late at the precinct. Too many cases, too little time. Gavin didn’t mind the extra work anyways. It wasn’t like he had anything better to in his dingy little apartment. Absentmindedly he rubbed at his eyes with one hand, scrolling through his fourth case file with the other. He’d turn his screen brightness down if it could go any lower, but even at its lowest it was glaringly bright. Yawning, he stretched back in his chair, cracking as many joints as he could. Actually, a bed in a dingy apartment sounded pretty good right about now.

“Excuse me, Detective Reed?”

Groaning, Gavin swiveled his chair to meet the voice. He was a about to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but as he met their eyes his voice promptly shriveled up and died in his throat. He noticed the LED first, distaste broiling in his stomach. But as the android tilted it’s head, inquiring for an answer, Gavin caught a glimpse of what was behind it. Whatever voice had lodged in his throat dropped to his stomach like a boulder. 

Massive ebony wings sat stiffly on it’s back, easily dwarfing the average wingspan. Incredibly intimidating, and probably stronger than a bull.

Gavin suddenly felt hyperaware of how flat his shoulder blades laid on the back of his chair. 

Spit souring in his mouth, he momentarily contemplated not even answering. 

“Detective Reed?”

Rolling his eyes, he answered. “What the fuck do you want, plastic?”

It tilted it’s head back upright, seeming pleased with itself. Politely, it asked, “My name is Connor. Do you know where Lieutenant Hank Anderson may be? I’ve been assigned to assist him with a case.”

Cyberlife’s making detectives? Fuck. “Android Detective, huh?” Gavin scoffed. “The old shit’s probably stinking up some bar in town. Now piss off.” And turning back to his screen, he made it a point to not acknowledge the android any further.

He could hear it begin to walk off before stopping, and turning back to Gavin. “Detective Reed, may I ask one more question?” 

Annoyance trailing down his spine, Gavin stayed silent, but Connor seemed to take that as an affirmation.

It walked back up to his desk. “I was under the impression that Police Departments are restricted from hiring any Unmanifested individuals. Do I have to report--” and Gavin didn’t hear the rest as he heaved it back by the lapels on the perfectly pressed Cyberlife jacket it wore. It’s wings flared out, trying to stabilize itself.

“Listen here, jackass. I’m not gonna let some plastic prick waltz into my precinct and start telling me where I can fucking work. I’m going to ask you to haul your ass out of here before I think my gun looks better pressed into your mouth.” Gavin seethed. He could feel small Avis muscles twitch in his back, accompanying his adrenaline, as if readying for flight. The twitching made him roll his shoulders back and release the android, trying to make the uncomfortable feeling leave. 

The android’s LED hovered yellow, probably sensing his distress or some shit. The Avis muscles always deeply unsettled Gavin when they moved.

Connor probably reasoned that leaving and dogging after Anderson would be the best option at this point. It turned around and strut out of the precinct, and Gavin took momentary pride in the ruffled and out of place feathers the Android now had. 

He watched it until it left his sight. Only when he knew that Connor had left the precinct did Gavin sit down and really let his fury bleed out of him. Slumping in his chair, he checked his phone. 11:42. Shit. He should really be heading home. And not because he’s embarrassed, he tells himself. It’s because he needs the sleep. Yeah. 

Grabbing his jacket and logging off of his computer, he made his way to the front door. Walking past the break room he caught a glimpse of Tina Chen’s brown-teal wings in the doorway. Stopping, he popped his head in to say goodnight, and the walked out to get in his car. As he pulled away from the DPD and headed home, he tried his hardest to not think about what happened, but failed miserably.

Androids had wings. They were small, white, and purely to make them fit in. Lack of wings, it turned out, gave people the creeps, so Cyberlife made sure to give them some. But what he had seen, on Connor, with wings rivaling Hank Anderson, was just fucking wrong. Not to mention that the android was a detective. They were really gunning for as many jobs as they could get, huh? And not to mention the asshole had the audacity to threaten to report him. Because he was Unmanifested. Jesus.

Gavin Lewis Reed was one of two Unmanifested individuals in the state of Michigan. From the ages fourteen to sixteen every person would go through a Manifestation-- a spontaneous appearance of wings that connected to the Avis muscles humans are born with. To not Manifest was absurdly rare. To be Unmanifested meant being stared at, meant being discriminated against. It meant never even having the chance to fly. It meant never living a normal life. 

Watching the streetlights blur by, he yawns. Now, Gavin wouldn’t admit it, but he still had hope. Hope that he’s going to be one of a dozen documented cases Late Manifestation, one being a woman in her thirties from Chicago sixty years ago. When Gavin had heard that Late Manifestation was a thing, no matter how unusual and uncommon it was, he had this feeling of smoldering ashes alight in his chest. It was possible, and he could be next.

But Gavin would never admit that.

Getting out of his car, Gavin routinely thought of his status as an Unmanifested as an honest to God curse from whatever deity that was out for his blood. High School and the Academy were hell for Gavin. He remembers what they called him. A “special case”. Unmanifesteds were prohibited by law to enter the police force for “safety reasons”, they said. You should be grateful you’re even here, they said. To hell with the lot of ‘em. 

As he walked past a broken elevator and up three flights of stairs, the thought of going to bed without eating anything sounded more and more alluring, be he knew that he’d regret it and he’d be starving with no time to eat in the morning. So when he got to his apartment, he hastily unlocked the door, shoved it when it got jammed, and threw a the only thing in his freezer, a frozen breakfast burrito, into the microwave. All of his plates were dirty, so he just wrapped the burrito in a wad of paper towels and jumped to his couch, sinking into it’s lumpy masses.

“TV on,” Gavin said, turning his body to see the screen.The news channel that the TV defaulted to was reporting a new line of androids by Cyberlife, and he hastily changed the channel. Rom-coms. Yeah, that’ll do. So Gavin watched shitty rom-coms while eating a breakfast burrito, and then fell asleep on the couch, 

 

When Gavin had walked into the precinct the next morning, he was called into an interrogation immediately. God, not even a chance to grab a coffee? Gavin loved being a detective but sometimes it really sucked. Ah! But there-- the shine of Tina’s glossy wings on a wall in the break room.

“Good mornin’, Tina.” He said, waving. “I see you’re still camping the coffee machine.” 

Tina laughed, wings shifting jovially. “No more than you, do, idiot. But have you heard?”

What? “Heard of what?”

Tina’s expression darkened. “The android.” 

“Oh,” Gavin groaned. “Yeah, I know. Piece of shit tried to bag me already.” Walking next to her he rifled around in the top cabinet, looking for a mug.

Tina gasped, looking at Gavin, surprised. “Oh he did not.”

Grumbling, Gavin nodded as he poured some liquid life into a cup. 

“Hey, I gotta go, but if you need to get a hold of me just call me, okay dude?” Tina said, making a “call” sign with her hand. He watched her leave the break room, really not wanting to go and see whatever was waiting in the interrogation room. Nevertheless, he trudged his way over. Dropping his hand lazily on the hand scanner, he walked in.

Striding into the spectator side, he jolted as he crashed into a solid wall of black feathers. 

Soft feathers. What an intruding thought.

The moment didn’t last very long. “Shit! Watch where you’re standing, asshole.” He spat, shoving the android aside. Connor turned around, eyeing the man as he walked into the room. Leaning against the he sipped his coffee, watching Anderson through the one way glass. What he noticed though, was that the android’s wings were and odd shade of green. A little muddy, but obviously green.

Gavin could tell that Connor was looking at him. “My apologies for last night, Detective. I was unaware the DPD had the authorization to employ you here.” 

Gavin ignored it, just watching Anderson. The Lieutenant was obviously angry, looming tawny wings ruffled and twitching. Suddenly he slammed the file on the table and stalked out. 

“The thing’s not budging. Not a word.” He said, sitting down. He looked over at Gavin, who laughed. 

“We could always try roughing it up a little,” pointedly looking at Connor, he continued. “After all, it’s not human.”

Connor looked back at him, pressing it’s wings closer to it’s back. “Androids don’t feel pain. You’d only aggravate it, Detective.” At being addressed, Gavin looked down. God, was he flustered like a teen? This week was just getting worse.

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“I could question it.”

Dear God, Gavin laughed. Yeah right. But then Anderson gestured towards the door, and then Gavin really got to see the android at work.

In short, horrifyingly precise. And not once during the entire interrogation had the wings on the Android moved. Not even a twitch. And once it had gotten a confession, he and Chris walked in to move the perp. But then, something odd had happened. 

“You’re causing it too much stress, Officer.” Connor said from the doorway. “It will self-destruct if you are not careful.”

Gavin whipped around, pointing at Connor. “Let me do my fucking job.” He whipped back to Chris. “What are you doing? Move it!”

Chris got a look on his face, a clear ‘Jesus Christ shut up, dude’, accompanied by a flare of his wings. “That’s what I’m trying to do!” And made another grab for the android, cowering on the ground. Seeing such a realistic reaction from an android made Gavin shudder. 

“I asked you to stop!” And then Connor’s standing in front of him-- and there it is. It’s wings were twitching, vying to shield the android on the ground. Gavin was fascinated. What got Connor so worked up? And at that point, Gavin was just fucking fed up. So he pulled his gun on it.

“I thought I told you to let me do my job, plastic.” And Gavin’s aiming at it’s forehead, and he could see it’s wings twitch and it’s LED settle on red. But for a moment it’s all too human. He feels a shudder down his back-- his Avis muscles were going nuts, and it took all of Gavin’s self control to not move.

He heard the click of a safety to his left. “I said that’s enough.” 

Gavin looked between Anderson and Connor, and briefly to Chris as he shifted uncomfortably. 

“Fuck.” And the Avis jerk, and he’s forced to lower his gun. “Fuck!”

He left the room and once he’s out of sight he vigorously rolled his shoulders and neck, trying his hardest to get the muscles to stop moving. God. Shit!

He moved back to his desk, glaring at Chris and the perp as he led it into a room, not touching it one bit. He’s daggering the HK400 with his eyes as it sat in the corner of the cell. Connor walked out of the Interrogation room and scanned the precinct, left to right. It’s gaze landed on Gavin and it began walking in his direction. Hastily, Gavin pretended to be working as diligently as possible, maybe in the hope that Connor would walk right past him. But no. 

It walked up right next to him, and Gavin wanted to feel intimidated, but despite the looming shadow it casted over his desk, he felt decidedly unthreatened. Gavin’s face heated up. 

“Detective Reed, in order to maintain good office relationships, I brought you this.” And it held up a mug half-full with coffee. “You left it in the interrogation room. I’m afraid we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

Hesitantly, Gavin took the mug from him, and fumbling over his words, said, “Uh, thanks I guess.” And turned back to his work, not listening to the rustling of feathers that followed Connor.

What a terrible week indeed.

When Gavin had gotten home, he took his jacket off and a slick, black feather fell out. Picking it up and inspecting it, he wondered when there might’ve been a chance for it to get in there. And, without thinking, he pocketed it and then hung up his jacket. That’s a morning-me problem.


	2. Some Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things happen while on duty.

Recently discovered ancient documents reveal that Alexander the Great himself was a possible example of Late Manifestation. The texts detail about how the man “had not come of age until he had conquered The Scourge of Asia (Persia).” Alexander’s lack of Manifestation should have immediately ruled him out as any sort of nobleman, let alone an commander of armies. Historian Katy Freeman elaborates on the history of the Unmanifested on page 32.

 

The next day Gavin caught Connor watching a report on flight-abled androids in the break room, as he’s sharing a coffee with Tina. Gavin watched Connor as he took in the information. It’s wings reflected light from the windows, and Gavin realized that it’s wings were actually a dark shade of blue. Gavin got lost for a moment, watching the feathers shine in the light. It’s mesmerizing. Then he remembered he’s next to Tina and decides to shoot a jab at the android.

“Hey, if it isn’t our resident android detective!” Gavin announced, elbowing Tina when said android turned to look at him curiously.

“Good morning Detective Reed,” it said pleasantly. It’s wings were folded politely behind his back, but the sheer size revealed them over it’s shoulders. “Did you read the article on Alexander the Great? Personally, I found it interesting.” Yes, Gavin had. Gavin had poured over it like his life had depended on it, but he’d rather die than let Conor know that. It smiled. Seeing an Android pretending to strike up conversation like they’re all buddy-buddy made something bitter in him stir. 

“I may have skimmed it.” Gavin said, standing up from his lean on the table. He brought his empty mug with him as he strides up to the android. Shit. Gavin kept forgetting that Connor is significantly taller than him. Forging past that fact, he pushed the the mug into it’s chest, feeling his fingers brush up against it’s as it grasped the mug from him. “Make me a coffee, dipshit.”

Gavin glanced over at Tina, who’s watching, interested. 

“As you wish, Detective.” And it turns around, walks over the the coffee machine, and with precise, mechanical movements, pours him coffee. Gavin gawks, turning wide-eyed at Tina, who’s snickering behind her hand.

Connor walks back to Gavin, and when he doesn’t make a move to grab it, it tenderly took his hands and placed them around the mug. And then he left.

“What the fuck just happened?” And Tina’s wholeheartedly cackling, wings shaking with mirth.

Gavin saw Connor not too long after that. He’d been called to investigate a scene at an Android sex club. Walking through the halls with Androids giving him bedroom eyes from the glass made him want to hack up his dinner. The tacky neon lighting burned his eyes and he had to squint to navigate. The whole place had a faint underlying scent of warm plastic and it made Gavin just queasy enough to make him feel awful. Not only that, but no one else was called to go with him. This was extremely against the agreement that the DPD had with Detroit that he would have a Manifested individual with him when he was deployed. At all times. Gavin scowled, bitter. This could lose him his job if no one got there soon.

He greeted the greasy owner of the establishment, warily shaking his hand. He could tell that the grubby little dude was eyeing greedily at his back. A shiver crawled up his spine, and it had nothing to do with his Avis. So this guy was one of them. Suddenly, Gavin wanted nothing to do with this scene, and he dodged as many questions from the gremlin and his puke-y wings as possible. Gavin would tell him off, but the last thing he needed was getting any more disciplinary warnings. On one occasion the gremlin laid a hand on his back, sliding his hands on his Avis. Gavin tensed up, feeling violated. Don’t fight, don’t fight, he told himself. He just stood there, stiffly as the owner pressed his thumbs into his back, and it took all of Gavin’s might to not let his knees buckle. Don’t fight, don’t fight dontfightdontfight-- and so when Anderson and his plastic pet strode in, he had to try not to cry with relief. 

Sliding away from the sleazebag as fast as possible, he slapped a hand on the Lieutenant’s shoulder. “Anderson! Glad you’re here.” He loaded the statement with enough disdain to make it seem normal, but he shot the Lieutenant a look at the sleazy owner, and he seemed to understand. Gavin relayed what he had found--trying to be as succinct as possible. 

Leaning against a wall, he began. “It was probably some guy who, heh, got a little more than he could handle.” But thinking better of it, he continued. “But there’s significant bruising around his neck. Can’t tell if it’s what killed him or just some rough play.” And with that, he moved to leave.

“Detective, wait.” Connor said, and Gavin’s a little upset about how that voiced made his heart skip a beat. 

Connor kneeled down next to the body, and for a moment, it’s LED flashed yellow. “Astute observation. He was asphyxiated.” At the minor praise, some Avis twitched, and Gavin tried not to blush. The movement would probably have resulted in the ruffling of feathers in a show of pride, and for a moment Gavin was glad he didn’t have wings. 

“Yeah, thanks.” He said dumbly, not really knowing what to say. Looking around, he saw Anderson was giving him a suspicious look. Oh god. Abort! Abort! Gavin turned on heel and marched out as fast as possible. God, he had a headache.

Getting into his car, he thumbed at the feather in his pocket. Realizing this, he scowled and yanked his hand out. Shit. This wasn’t happening. Tina would kick his ass.

Groaning, he dropped his head onto the steering wheel, thoroughly startling when the horn beeped. Not wanting to have anything to do with what had just transpired, he sped off. 

He got home to the wonderful sound of his neighbors making a racket. They were probably throwing another party, and Gavin’s already preparing to not get any sleep that night. Sometimes, if they were loose with the alcohol, he’d have the honor of hearing some saps having sex in the bedroom adjacent to his, another reminder of just how lonely he was. The walls were definitely thinner than they thought they were. 

He pulled some crap out of his fridge for dinner and sat down at his kitchen table, shuddering violently whenever the thought of the man at Eden. Looking into his food, he shoveled some into his mouth and stuck it back in the fridge for later. He didn’t really feel like eating.

Quickly stripping and putting on some old sweatpants to sleep in, Gavin got into bed to try and fall asleep before the brunt of the party began. Laying in bed, he stared up at the ceiling. His back laid flat on the bed, and his arms spread out so the tips of his fingers hung of the sides of his bed. He breathed. In, Out. In, Out. Four count, five count, six count, and so on, until sleep came in on little cat feet.

 

He’s sitting on the ground in front of a sofa, and there’s someone sitting behind him.Their hands are on his shoulders, running up the side of his neck, carding through his hair, and back down again. The movements are cyclic, predictable, and comforting in a way Gavin couldn’t quite put a finger on. The hands were cold against his hot scalp, soothing and calming. When they would land on his shoulders, they would press into the back of his neck in smooth circles, around and around, keeping a steady rhythm. Gavin leaned his head against the knee of the person. The figure continued their cycle, up to his scalp, pull through twice, and down to the shoulders, caressing tenderly. Then, breaking routine, the hands traveled down from his neck, trailing finger tips down his spine, carefully skirting around where his Avis are. Gavin hummed, suddenly curious of who this was. He makes a move to turn around, but suddenly the hands scratch down his back and start clawing and ripping at- at -- something that shouldn’t be there- in a panic wrenches out of their grasp, something tugging on his back-- and--

Gavin woke up slowly, curiously relaxed despite the horror of what he had just dreamt. He could tell he slept well, because getting up sounded like the worst idea ever conceived. He almost considers taking another fifteen minutes, when he catches a glimpse of the time on his nightstand. 

Bolting up, he let out a string of curses and profanity. Snatching his phone he sees he has several texts from Tina.

Tina (8:45)- hey i know you got called to a scene pretty late last night but you should call in if you’re coming in late

Tina (9:00)- gavin hey man u ok

Tina (9:02)- gavin

Tina (9:02)- gavin

Tina (9:03)- gavin

Tina (9:32)- if something’s wrong you know you can talk to me abt it

(3 Missed Calls)

Tina (10:28)- dude fowler’s pissed he’s gonna rip you a new one

Tina (10:36)- im planning ur funeral

“Shit!” He’d slept in two and half hours and Fowler was already mad. He couldn’t believe this. He ran his hands down his face, trying to decide just how fucked he was. He decided, on a scale of one to ten, he was somewhere along the lines up ‘I will never see the light of day again’.

Manically ripping clothes out of his dresser he got ready in record time, even if he did skip his coffee. His commute to work wasn’t much smoother, and he had probably broken numerous traffic laws. Red lights could kiss his ass. No passing zone? Hard pass.

It was the law or his skin, and Gavin knew what he’d uphold at this point.

But as he started walking through the parking lot, adrenalin wearing thin, he had come to the realization that he forgot something you kind of needed when it was snowing-- a jacket. Great. Just great. He had to look like an idiot walking outside in the winter in a fucking T-Shirt. 

Folding his arms he hustled his way in, nearly stopping to greet the desk android. He was really off his game, wasn’t he? His eyes were watering, his nose running in the warm precinct. At least he got some sleep, he told himself. At least he got some sleep. 

The moment he stepped into the office area he caught Fowler’s gaze watching his every movement, eagle eyed and suspicious. Pretending not to notice, Gavin inched his way to his desk, only stopping when he sees a cup of coffee sitting innocently in front of his keyboard. Picking it up, he saw that it’s in the same mug from the day before, but full. Bringing it up to his lips, he takes a sip, and it’s cold and slides down his throat. Huh. Someone had put a mug of coffee on his desk for when he arrived, but Gavin had overslept and now it was cold. Gavin felt strangely bad that someone went through the effort for nothing. It was an exceedingly kind gesture, and the only person that came to mind that might’ve done such a thing was Tina. Maybe this is why she was so hellbent on getting him into work. Setting the coffee down, he scans the room for any sight of Tina. His eyes cast over Anderson’s desk than over to the android, which looks down immediately as Gavin looks at him-- wait wait wait wait. What? Was the android watching him? Gavin took a glance at his cold coffee. It couldn’t be, right? 

“Reed. Get over here.” He heard Fowler’s voice call. Shit. Here it comes. Gavin mentally prepared himself as he approached the glass walls. The glass could shade itself, but Fowler rarely did so, so whatever happened in that room, everyone would be able to see and hear it. Gavin chanced a look at Connor as he walked by, but the android seemed to have resumed whatever it was doing. 

Pushing the glass door open, he tried to avoid putting any fingerprints on the crystal. He closed the door gently behind him. He had to look so guilty right now, head down in shame, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. His Avis shuddered, feeling like a cold drop of water had dripped down his spine. 

Fowler gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Take a seat. Reed.” Gavin did so, uncomfortable. Usually he’d talk back but this time he was one hundred percent liable, so he thought better. Giving lip could lose him his job at this point.

“Connor told me what happened last night.” Fowler said, folding his hands on his desk. His wings were of considerable size, and an unusual shade of burgundy. They were positioned non-threateningly, counterintuitively making Gavin more wary and suspicious. Gavin’s back twitched. Left, right. 

Gavin leaned back in the chair. ‘“Bout what?” 

“About what happened with you and the owner in Eden last night.” 

Gavin started to stand and protest that nothing happened when Fowler raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“What he did was completely unacceptable and you have every right to prevent something like that from happening by any means necessary. I get the fact that you’re on a thin line here, and the higher-ups want to sack you, but don’t let that keep you from defending yourself.” He said, articulated and maybe a little heated. Gavin was dumbstruck. He didn’t know what to say. He’d always thought that Fowler didn’t want him working in the precinct, but maybe he’d been wrong.

Feeling kind of lost, he spoke. “Fowler, I don’t…”

Fowler looked at Gavin, giving off a nonchalantly professional air. “Then don’t,” and just as Gavin made to leave, he said, “And while we’re on don’ts right now, don’t be late again.” And with this, he turned back to his computer and dismissively waved Gavin out. Psh.

Only when Gavin was halfway back to his desk did it really process what had happened. Connor had somehow seen more of what happened with the owner of Eden than he’d thought, and then reported it to Fowler. Gavin was thoroughly confused. Why did he tell Fowler? What could’ve he possibly gained from doing that? And then there was the coffee-- he’d still have to approach Tina and see if was her-- and if not if it was Connor. Just thinking about it made Gavin’s face heat up. Of course it wasn’t. There was no way that the dark-eyed robocop and his perfect fucking wings would even think about doing something nice for Gavin. But as Gavin approached his desk, there was a different mug sitting on his desk. Blue, and incredibly conspicuous.

What? He could tell it was hot just by looking at it. Shuffling over, he picked it up and took another sip. Gavin had to contain a groan. It was perfect, bitter and dark, and just hot enough to not scald but keep him toasty. He was dumbfounded, and at a complete loss for words. For a second, Gavin’s eyes prickled. What was going on?

Sighing, he sat down at his desk, nursing his coffee. He sniffled wetly. 

Fuck this. He had a lot of reports to do.


	3. Stuffy Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What the fuck is up with you?” the Lieutenant said, face twisted with disbelief--and concern? Fuck that. Fuck. That. Quickly, he thought, be mean so they’ll go away.
> 
> Gavin inhaled sharply through his nose and responded with a raspy voice. “Nothing, bitch.” It came out pitiful, mewling. Gavin flushed. So much for being nasty.

At some point, Anderson and his pet had left, and about fifteen minutes later Gavin was ten reports in when Tina ushered him into the break room frantic and shocked. Gavin followed and his jaw dropped at the sight of what was on the TV. An android, skinless and terrifying, was broadcasting itself on every channel. It’s cold plastic interior was lined with grey, under the cheekbones, around the eyes. The android couldn’t have looked any less human. It was speaking of android rights, asking to be recognized. 

 

Several dilemmas arose in Gavin at once. Gavin had hated and treated android poorly as if he had a personal grudge since they came out. Had he been abusing sentient beings? The androids he’d seen all seemed insentient and cold, and never retaliated at his attacks, so what was different about this one? Were there more?

 

“What the fuck? The hell just happened?”

 

Was Connor one of them?

 

And after a few moments, the broadcast ended. He faintly heard Tina shout  _ what the fuck was that? _ As Gavin tried to hold his beliefs together. Androids couldn’t feel. Androids were dangerous. There was no way,  _ in hell _ , that Gavin would ever think otherwise. He’d built himself on this. On his hatred and bitterness. It was his foundation for his ambitions and desires, and at this moment Gavin felt a fissure, a cavern splice open. He shook.

 

Gathering himself, he trotted back to his desk, trying to ignore everything that just happened, and continued slaving away at his reports.

  
  
  


When it came time to leave, Gavin hesitated briefly, remembering he had no jacket for the ride home. He forced himself up and out of the precinct, teeth near to chattering. He didn’t know why he hesitated, it wasn’t like he was going to stay at the precinct overnight. 

 

As he started his car, he sat in the lot, letting his engine warm up so he could turn on the heat. Once warm air began to leak out of the vents, he pulled away, heading to his apartment. His car was still cold. God, he hated this. He ran into his apartment and forgot about the day. 

 

He fell asleep fitfully, and dreamt of nothing.

  
  
  
  


When he got up though, his eyes peeled themselves open, sticky and slow. He turned his head to look at his clock, neck crackling uncomfortably as it felt like all the blood in his face was try to drain out of his skull. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, and he could feel every muscle ache, Avis included.

 

_ There is no fucking way I am sick. No way. No-sir-ee. _

 

The last time Gavin was sick he ended up in the hospital. It had come fast and hard, and the next thing he knew his lungs had filled with fluid and he couldn’t cough it up in time. He was probably twenty-two when it happened, and they told him the only reason he had gotten so sick is because he’s Unmanifested. Some lab idiot had analyzed the white blood cell count in teenagers around their manifestation and found that they were unusually low, for fuck who knows why. Every couple of years Gavin’s body prepared for Manifestation, and it made his immune system tank. He’d been slacking off recently and now he’s going to pay the price. Shit.

 

No. He’s going to walk into work and everything’s going to be fine. He’s going to do all his reports, go to any of the scenes he’s called, and do a goddamn fantastic job, and no one was going to stop him.

  
  
  
  


Gavin found quickly that he couldn’t keep down any breakfast. He didn’t know what he had. The flu? Pneumonia? God knows what. All he knew was that he felt absolutely awful. Looking into the toilet bowl, Gavin decided to skip breakfast. He peeled his head from the seat, flushed it, and set off to work.

 

This is fine, he told himself. Fine. Okay. He didn’t throw up a bowl of cereal. His entire body isn’t cold. His Avis aren’t shuddering with every rattling breath he takes. He. Will. Be. Okay.

 

Walking into the precinct felt like he was walking into a stuffy closet in hell. He could feel every part of his sinuses, and none of his own face. He was warm--uncomfortably so, but all the while colder than a dead fish. He sank into his desk chair, sniffling. 

 

Once again, the perfect cup of coffee was placed neatly in the center of his desk. He snatched it before anyone saw. Taking a sip, he relished in the bitter flavor warming up his clawed up throat. Yeah, that’s the stuff. 

 

He could tell someone was walking up to him from behind, with the thump-thumps of heavy feet. Quietly, Gavin prayed to whatever deity he could that they weren’t going to talk to him.

 

Anderson arrived at the side of his desk, with Connor right next to him. Damn, they looked like an honest to god team. 

 

“What the fuck is up with you?” the Lieutenant said, face twisted with disbelief--and concern? Fuck that. Fuck. That. Quickly, he thought, be mean so they’ll go away. 

 

Gavin inhaled sharply through his nose and responded with a raspy voice. “Nothing, bitch.” It came out pitiful, mewling. Gavin flushed. So much for being nasty.

 

Anderson rolled his eyes. “ _ Bitch _ , something is wrong. It looks like you rolled out of a morgue.”

 

“Fuck you,” Gavin seethed. This asshole couldn’t pretend to start caring  _ now _ . “Im fine.” He turned to look at Anderson fully, but his eyes got caught on Connor. His wings were positioned low, and his LED was flashing gold. That gold ring. He watched it circle lazily. He didn’t register that Anderson continued to say something, and the ring dashed to red. Huh. His eyes followed it as Connor reached over to touch Gavin on the shoulder. Gavin started at the shake, blearily blinking out of his haze.

 

“You have a high fever, Detective. I would advise that you get someone in the station to drive you home.” He said. His head tilted with his words. Anderson nodded, agreeing. 

 

Not wanting to confront the situation at hand, Gavin looked over at Anderson’s desk. Most of the anti-android stickies and words were gone. Huh. 

 

“I’m fine. Jesus. If you guys could just--” and suddenly Gavin’s coughing. No, not coughing, he was hacking as hard as he can and he groped for a tissue off of his desk. He coughed, spit, and choked into it until globules of mucus spat into the tissue. He looked at it, at Connor, and over at Anderson. 

 

“We gotta go question some people,” Anderson said. “Get in my car. You ain’t staying here.” He grabbed Gavin by the sleeve and hauled him out of his chair. For a moment, he stood there, and quickly directed Connor to grab the box of tissues on the desk. 

 

What? “Why the fuck do you care if I keel over?” Hearing this, Anderson scoffed. 

 

“Ya gotta start letting people caring, asshole.” He said, pulling Gavin through the precinct’s doors. Gavin stumbled several times, but Anderson walked with purpose and left no room for him to fall to the floor,

 

“Phuck off.” Shit, his lisp was pulling through. Anderson shot him an odd look, then looked away, smirking.

 

Gavin was unceremoniously tossed into the back seat of Hank’s car, as Connor sat into the front seat. Suddenly, Gavin was reminded of yesterday’s happenings and thought in his bleary state to ask.

 

“Hey,” Gavin said, breaking the silence. “Androids are your guys' problem, right? Did you check out the scene of that broadcast thing?”

 

Connor nodded. “Yes, we did. The android that set up the broadcast was an RK200 and accompanied by three other androids. One got injured and was left on the roof. We found it.” It said, oddly thinly. Gavin almost said something but Anderson shot him a look through the rear view mirror. What had happened? What could get an android so hung up on it? 

 

Gavin would’ve loved to poke and prod some more at Connor, but the warm air was on in Anderson’s car, and suddenly he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Gavin got lulled into a sickly sleep, hunched over in the back of the car. Anderson looked back, smirking at the sight.

 

Gavin awoke when the hot air stopped. The car had been turned off, and he faintly registered Connor and Anderson getting out. Anderson opened the passenger door and awkwardly shoved Gavin awake. 

 

“We’re here. Are you going to come in or somethin’?”

 

Gavin groaned blearily, pushing Anderson’s hand off of his shoulder. “Depends, where are we--” and sitting up in the seat, he saw the monolithic slanted walls of Elijah Kamski’s private estate. 

 

“No way. No fucking way. Leave me here to freeze.” Gavin was  _ not _ going to see that absolute sack of shit. No way sir-ee.

 

Anderson was not amused. “Suit yourself.” And the door was shut rather forcefully. Gavin frowned, watching the two walk up to the door. 

 

They both looked uncomfortable as they waited for someone to open the door. Eventually,  a Chloe model opened it up and greeted them. Gavin watched, interested, when the Chloe looked out, directly at him, LED yellow. Gavin immediately sunk down in the seat, trying to hide. Fuckfuckfuckfuck he hopes to god it’s not going to say anything to Elijah. Avis twitching, he curls up. Damn. He wasn’t going to lose this silent streak just because he decided to stick with Anderson for once. Gavin sat there, curled up in the back seat until he heard Connor’s voice from outside the car. 

 

Curious, Gavin straightened up, peeking through the window, and there was something he definitely didn’t expect to see. Anderson’s wings were embracing the android, held in a hug close to his chest. Connor’s wings hung low, brushing the snow and leaving small trails. The bright snow shone off of his glassy wings, enhancing the gorgeous blue. Gavin’s Avis shuddered.

 

What the fuck had Elijah done in there? Gavin was no stranger to his godless antics, but to drive a soulless android to  _ that _ ? It made something uneasy settle in Gavin’s stomach, adding to the absurd amounts of “not-normal” he was feeling. When they finally let go of one another, Gavin looked away quickly, feeling as if he was intruding on a personal moment. 

 

Of an  _ android’s _ . 

 

Damn, he was really losing his touch.

 

They were silent as they entered the car and drove off. Gavin said nothing. Connor took out his coin, rolling it across his knuckles and tossing it between his hands. Gavin couldn’t help but watch, as the coin flew around and hear the quiet  _ ting, ting _ as he passed it.

 

-

 

They pulled back into the precinct, and Hank gestured for Gavin to follow him in. “We just gotta pick something up, then I’ll drop you off a god-knows-where you live.”

 

Walking in, Gavin choked on his spit when he saw the precinct crawling with Feds. 

 

“What in the fresh hell is this?” He said, looking around warily. The FBI was everywhere, like ants on every surface, crawling and creeping. Gavin watched them as they strolled around as if claiming every inch of the floor. He turned to say something to Anderson but they’d already filed away. In fact, Gavin could see him arguing with Fowler in his office. 

 

“Well,” a voice announced behind him, “If it isn’t the Detroit Icarus. Never thought I’d see you again.”

If Gavin turned around right now, he might see the fucker’s face and try to punch a hole right through it. If he didn’t turn around, he might not get to break it’s nose.

 

He turned, slowly. He came face to face with Jonathan Blakes, someone who flaunted his FBI badge like it was a VIP card, and notorious for his severe disciplinary warnings that never came to any punishments. Rumors had spread that Blakes was Perkins’s step-son and Perkins was purposefully looking away, and damn the world if Gavin didn’t believe it. Both the fuckers had black tipped brown wings, with small wingspans. He went to the academy with this guy, but Blakes never got a promotion from police to FBI-- he went straight up. Another testament to the unfair advantage he held. Fuck him.

 

“Shut it, daddy’s-boy.” He seethed, clenching his fists. He could see it-- his fist ramming into soft flesh, Blakes crying out. Oh boy, he was ready to show him pain.

 

Blake’s thin eyebrows furrowed into dark eyes. “You’d better watch your mouth, Reed or I’ll--”

 

“Or you’ll what? Sic  _ daddy _ on me? Please do, you shithead.” Gavin groused out. He became acutely aware of how his voice graveled as mucus built up in his throat. He would not cough and relinquish control of the situation, so he tried to swallow it down.

 

Blakes’s hand shot up and grabbed the front of Gavin’s T-Shirt, and he could see the tops of his wings peeking over his shoulders, trembling.

 

A calloused hand shoves Blakes back, and he stumbles. Gavin sneers, and inhaling sharply, coughs violently. Hacking, he looks up to see Anderson, looking angry. 

 

“Can’t leave you for five minutes but you fight someone, Jesus. C’mon, get into my car. I’ll meet you there.In a couple of minutes. I gotta clean some things up.” He said, sitting down at his desk. Connor came to sit to his right, on the desk, oddly casual. 

 

“Sorry to make you wait, Detective Reed,” The android said, gesturing towards Fowler’s office. “We had gotten some unfortunate news.”

 

Hm. Gavin could already guess what had happened. “You lost the case, huh?”

 

“Yeah. Fuckin’ feds. We were close to closing it too.”

 

Gavin crossed his arms stiffly. “You’ll be fine. You’ll get another case.”

 

Hank shrugged, grimacing. “Yeah, I know.” and then for a moment he looked downward and his eyebrows scrunched, obscuring his eyes. After a moment of silence that made Gavin’s skin prickle and gave him the urge to sneeze, Hank looked up. “What’s gonna happen to you, Connor?”

 

“I imagine I’ll return to Cyberlife to be deactivated. To see why I failed.” He murmured, looking downcast. 

 

What the fuck was that? Gavin’s Avis decided to twitch. He almost grunted in discomfort but managed to swallow it down. Why the fuck was it looking so forlorn about it? Gavin’s jaw clenched. Don’t start thinking that’s  _ alive _ , Reed.

 

It’s not. It is  _ not _ .

 

“What if we’re on the wrong side of this?” Hank asked. 

 

Gavin could tell he was upset, even if he was trying to hide it. He was probably going to go home and drink himself into a stupor again. Not that Gavin cared. It’s just… seeing him come into work hungover and pathetic (sometimes he had the audacity to actually come in smashed) made him want to slap the Lieutenant silly until he sobered. Gavin knew what had happened, with his son, but Gavin hated watching him turn into this--this  _ drunkard _ when he still remembers what an incredible cop--no, man, that Hank was. Gavin looked up to him, years ago.

 

Gavin didn’t realize he had zoned out until Connor stood up abruptly, saying something he only heard the tail end of. 

 

“Five minutes, that’s all I ask.  _ Please,  _ Hank.”

 

Hank nodded, standing up and making a brisk pace towards Perkins. Connor sidled away as quickly as possible, trying to be inconspicuous. Gavin watched in amused horror as Hank reeled back his fist.

 

“Perkins, you fuckin’ cocksucker!” Gavin guffawed, clapping a hand to his mouth. Hank’s knuckles cracked against his cheek and Perkins dropped to the ground. 

 

He almost cheered when he saw the blood on Hank’s hand. That’ll teach him. But before he can go congratulate Hank, he spotted Connor. Interested, he shambles forward.

 

“Hey, Robocop, I didn’t quite catch what you guys were saying back there--” He saw Connor’s hand on the scanner, skin peeled away to reveal porcelain plastic, pristine and perfect. “--the fuck you doing?” 

 

Connor’s LED blinked to yellow, red, to yellow again. “I’m just registering the evidence in my possession, and then I’ll be returning to Cyberlife.” 

 

Gavin thumbed at the feather, still in his pocket. Suddenly, it felt foreign and heavy in his palm. “Uh,” he mumbled, “Well fuckin’, safe travels or some shit.”

 

Connor’s LED flashed yellow. “And you too, Detective Reed.”

 

All that came out was a dumbstruck  _ ok _ , and with that, Connor continued through the door.

 

_ Ok? _

 

When Gavin finally collected his wits and ambled out of the precinct, he was still delirious with shock (and fever). He climbed into Hank’s car, seeing Hank in the driver’s seat, and curled into himself, feeling truly, truly awful. 

  
  
  
  


“Hey, uh, where do you live?” 

 

Gavin told him.

 

“Fuck, Reed, you live around here?”

 

Gavin nodded, numb.

 

Anderson pulled into his complex. Gavin shoved his way out of the car door, sluggish and letting out a sickly hack. He looked back at the car, at Hank. Hank had a look on his face, scrunched up.

 

“I know being a Detective pays more than this. What the hell are you doin’ with all the money?”

 

Gavin shrugged. “Saving it.” 

 

Anderson scoffed incredulously. “For what, the apocalypse? How much you got squirreled away?”

 

His core burned, alight once again. Gavin gritted his teeth and sniffled wetly. “It’s none of your… fucking business,  _ Hank _ . Thanks for dropping me off.” He stepped back from the car as if saying ‘leave me the fuck alone.’

 

Hank hesitated for a moment. “Get something light to eat, like, fuck, I don’t know, chicken soup or something. Hate to see you starve.” Gavin scoffed. He wouldn’t starve. Anderson had rolled the window shut and driven off before he could respond. Why the fuck did he care? Gavin wouldn’t have cared a bit if he had dropped dead in that precinct. 

 

After trekking up the stairs like it was a mountain, he got into his apartment he dug around in the back of his pantry and is hand came out clutching a three-year-old can of chicken soup. He checked the date. Still good, so he threw it into a pot and heated it up. 

 

He turned the TV on, and flipped between channels, seeing nothing. He left it on the news, deciding it was the most interesting if anything. Eating the soup straight from the pot, he sat on the couch and laid back, watching nothing on the TV.

 

Long after he had consumed the soup, he continued to sit on his couch, flipping through his phone with the drone of the TV in the background. 

 

He quickly sank into the depths of murky sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!!! This chapter's a little bit of a doozy. I have everything written out already, and it comes out at about 11k words, so I'm updating sort of periodically. Thank you for reading!


	4. Icarus? Yup.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin has one problem solved, and a million more open up.

_ Breaking News! Androids given status as sentient beings following android’s peaceful protests in Detroit, Michigan. Establishments are now legally required to pay and give leave to androids, with significant pushback. Android related crime has skyrocketed in the past twelve hours. More than four thousand androids in the United States have been assaulted. Sentiency also brings up another question-- is it inhumane to continue to tolerate android enslavement in other countries, or are the foreign android incapable of emotions? Russian androids have been known to be incredibly cold and ruthless, and have gained a reputation among the media as “evil”. Would freeing them have unforseen consequences? Will freeing our own androids have unfortunate repercussions besides the ones already festering? _

 

When Gavin awoke, he knew something was very  _ very _ wrong. His head was clear. He could breathe easy. He was no longer sweating like a bitch in heat and 

 

And--

 

_ Something very bad had happened.  _

 

Gavin laid there, for god knows how long, afraid to move a single muscle. He was going to deny it for as long as he could.

 

A sharp knock sounded at the door, and Gavin held his breath. Another barrage of knocks, more firm and insistent. This happens two more times, incessant knocking, until he hears the jangling of keys and the click of the lock. He’d only ever given a key to one person. 

 

Tina.

 

Think of the devil, in walked the one and only Tina Chen, carrying a clean, reusable bag of groceries. Her shoes tappen on the floor brightly as she made her way through his apartment. 

 

“Gavin! I brought soup! Fowler said Anderson told him you were dead on your feet so your shift got reassigned.” She said, walking straight past the couch he was on and to the counter. As she talked she set various cans and baggies of food on the counter. Gavin watched, mortified,

 

She probably though he was in his bedroom. She hadn’t even noticed him on the couch. Gavin struggled to breathe, anxiety constricting his lungs like a preying snake. Picking up a can of soup, Tina trotted over to the door of his bedroom, and she toed it open. 

 

“Gavin?”

 

Gavin’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. Suddenly wary, Tina looked around, concerned, and made her way back to the kitchen. She scanned the bathroom, table, and then living room. Left to right. At him.

 

The soup can clattered to the floor. 

 

“ _ Oh my god! Holy shit! Gavin _ ????” She squealed. The groceries were long forgotten as Tina bolted forward and enveloped in a large, wing-y hug. Gavin still stood stock still as Tina crashed into him on the couch, and it’s springs groaned dangerously.

 

Without warning, Tina clutched Gavin’s forearms and hauled him up off the couch. The couch roughly jostled his-- his  _ wings _ .

 

Tina jumped around and started poking at them. “Oh Gavin, they're  _ gorgeous _ !” Involuntarily the feathers shudder, sending minute shivers down spine, encircling his Avis. 

 

Wings.  _ Wings. _ He had Manifested? Gavin felt his eyes prickle with warmth. Looking over to Tina, he paused, and then in one swift movement pulled her into an embrace, and tears rolled down his cheeks, and he choked back any sounds he might make. Fuck, don’t cry, Reed, you baby.

 

“Gavin, honey,” said Tina, pulling away and seeing his red face. “We need to tell Fowler, okay? But first you should get something to eat.” She turned around and picked up the can from the floor. “How’s,” she squinted at the label, “Wedding Style?”

 

Gavin, awed by her hospitality, said, “Yeah, sure.” 

 

As Tina poured the soup into a pot to heat up, Gavin quickly fled to the bathroom. In the mirror he saw them. Tina was right-- they were beautiful. Big, too. They flared a little outwards, and Gavin took a moment to bring a hand up to them. As he carded his feathers through his fingers, he took a moment to admire the color. The fluorescent light gave him glimpse of the ivory color-- when not in the light, the ivory gave way to a darker beige. If he got the angle just right, the feathers would shine, iridescent. They were probably waterproof.

 

They looked like Elijah’s.

 

Gavin was speechless.

 

In some capacity he was bitter. All he’d ever known was being wingless, and he had worked hard and long to get to where he was, even convincing the DPD to take him as a Detective. He’d endured immeasurable amounts of pain and suffering, and this was going to change that. What was all the struggle worth? Why did he ever even try?

 

Tina knocked at the door-- the same meter and rhythm as before, on the front door. 

 

“Coming,” Gavin called. As he walked through the door, his left wing knocked hard against the doorframe, and he yelped. Tina, from the kitchen, laughed.

 

“You gotta keep ‘em close, or you’ll fun into things. Especially with wings that big, idiot.”

 

“Yeah, fuck you too.” 

 

He sat down. Tina had already put a bowl out with a spoon. Gavin gave her a pointed look. 

 

“Thanks,  _ mom _ . Jesus.”

 

Tina smiled, and jokingly ruffled Gavin’s hair, to his protest. He could tell she was restraining her excitement about his Manifestation. 

 

While Gavin was eating the soup, his phone buzzed in his pocket, making his leg incredibly uncomfortable. He quickly pulled it out, and scanned it’s screen.

 

Huh. A news alert. Curious, Gavin opened it. As he read, the information washed over him. Word by word, Gavin’s shoulder fell and his eyes opened comically wide. 

 

Oh my god. “Androids… are like,  _ people  _ now?”

 

Tina nodded. “I couldn’t believe it either. Shit’s crazy, Gav. We got like, forty cases of android homicides.”

 

“Jeez,” said Gavin, shoving more soup in his mouth. “That’s gonna be a lot on Anderson and his android.”

 

There was a pause. At the odd silence, Gavin look at Tina for some kind of explanation. 

 

She sighed, crossing her arms and leaning on his counter. “You slept through the whole ordeal, didn’t you?”

 

Gavin nodded. He can’t believe he’d slept so heavy. There must’ve been helicopters galore and those shits were  _ loud. _

 

Tina made an odd face. “Connor’s like,” she made a vague gesture in the air. “Some sort of revolutionary hero, now.”

 

Gavin swallowed thickly. “He’s a  _ what _ now?”

 

Tina was unimpressed at Gavin’s obliviousness. “You must sleep like a fucking rock, man. He freed thousands of androids from Cyberlife Tower. Fowler says it’s his choice whether he comes back to work at the DPD.”

 

Gavin’s mouth formed an o shape. So he might just… never see him again. Oh.

 

Gavin’s chest ached.  _ Oh, indeed, you crafty motherfucker. _

 

“We should uh, tell Fowler, I guess. About uh--” Gavin said, realizing his situation. Would people react badly? Tina didn’t, but then again Tina was an angel in disguise. Fuck, this was so awkward.

 

Before Gavin could say anything else, Tina snapped a picture with her phone, smiling gleefully. Gavin could only stare blankly at her raised camera. That was going to be an awful picture. He probably looked high because he’d cried, and Tina’s phone was literal trash. 

 

Once Tina had stopped tapping at her keyboard, she slipped it into the back pocket of her casual jeans, crossed her arms, and gave Gavin The Look. He immediately knew something was up. 

 

Shrugging nonchalantly, she said, “I wasn’t planning on approaching you with this, but since things seem to be going  _ really _ well for you…”

 

He gave her A Look right back. “Spit it out, Chen.”

 

She waited a moment.

 

“So, like, I can totally tell you’ve got something for the android.” She offered plainly. Gavin’s face felt hotter than his soup for a second, and seeing his pained expression, Tina rolled her eyes. 

 

“Look, if it were yesterday, I’d have called you fucking insane, dude. But,” she paused. “What happened last night, even if you missed it,  _ idiot _ , can’t be denied. If he does end up coming back to the precinct, you should,” she made a vague gesture. What it was meant to indicate was lost to Gavin. “Try it.”

 

For a moment, Gavin was about to deny that anything was there, that she was delusional. Gavin  _ hated _ androids. He hated everything about them, and they were only a terrible reminder of just how inferior he is. Obsolete. Androids made him feel useless and slow and reminded him just how  _ bad _ at everything he is. 

 

But then his mind drifted to Connor. With his soft brown eyes and hair he can’t help but want to run his hands through, and suddenly Gavin felt very, very weak.

 

Looking down back at his soup, he muttered, “Fuck off.”

 

He could tell Tina was skeptical. Gavin had heard of her interest in other people’s love lives, but he’d never been the receiver. Her sneakers tapped on the floor as she walked to the front door. 

 

Saluting him, she said, “My shift’s starting. Gotta blast.” She scrunched her nose as she smiled, and squealed, “and once again,  _ congrats _ !” And with that, she stepped out the door. A shrill shriek sounded behind the door as Tina pranced out of the complex.

 

Gavin sighed lightly, and quickly finished up his soup. He gently stood up, tucking back his wings, and set the bowl in the sink after rinsing it. Suddenly, he was hit with it again. 

 

His hands slapped the countertop, quickly clenching into fists. He could feel his cheeks warm as he choked back a cry. Tears put lines of wet on his face, and Gavin tried his best to wipe them away with his forearms. 

 

He was so happy. Grateful, even. Grateful that whatever fucking asshole of a deity that screwed him over took a sliver of mercy on him. He had wings, and he would finally be able to walk in public without getting stared at, and he could--could. 

 

He swallowed any sounds that may have crawled out of his throat. He may even be able to take flight. Fly.  _ Fly. _

 

For once in his life, Gavin Reed was  _ not _ behind.

 

After he finished drying his cheeks, he found himself in his living room, testing his wings’s motor functions. It was odd, he noted, to finally have something connect to those muscles that had plagued him for decades. It felt right. 

 

Gavin quickly found that he was rather clumsy, after knocking a lamp over several times. It somehow didn’t break, or crack, any of the times. His wings were also absurdly wide, he found. They spanned a solid sixteen feet if he had to guess, and he took some time to straighten out some of the feathers.  _ Preening _ , his mind supplied. Yeah. 

 

His phone buzzed on the kitchen table. Gathering himself, he picked it up and checked his text.

 

**Fowler (2:16) -** I believe a congratulations is in order. 

 

Gavin fucking forgot Fowler had everyone’s number. Mildly freaked out, he responded 

 

**You (2:16) -** Thank you, Cap. When is my next shift? Chen never informed me. 

 

**Fowler (2:17) -** Right away. We’ve got more calls than we can respond to. 

 

**Fowler (2:17) -** Get to the precinct and I’ll tell you in person.

 

Gavin suddenly remembered his car was still at work, and Hank had driven him home last night. God, he’d have to take one of those creepy automated taxis. 

 

Whatever, he thought as he pulled up the phone. Whatever.

  
  
  
  


Fuck this. Fuck this. Gavin fucking hated the taxis. Not seeing anyone in the front seat made his insides clench uncomfortably. Plus, he had a hard time sitting in the tiny backseat with his wings. Fuuuuuck.

 

When the taxi finally stopped he quickly paid and bolted out. He sneered as he watched the weirdo little vehicle zoom away. He’d drive his own car home and he’d be fine. His keys were still in his jacket. 

 

The walk into the precinct was eerily quiet considering the bustle of the Feds the previous day. A human stood working the front desk, Gavin noted. She greeted him without looking up, and he was momentarily grateful he wouldn’t have to explain everything. 

 

The bullpen was empty. Gavin’s sneakers tapped on the tile floor as he approached Fowler’s office. He could see the Captain working diligently at his desk. It was no wonder he looked so swamped-- with androids having rights, android related crime had to have skyrocketed. Gavin could have guessed that was the reason no one was here. They were all out working.

 

He stepped into Fowler’s office, and the man held a hand up for him to be quiet. He held his phone close to his ear, and listened intently. 

 

“He’d better be coming in ASAP. Yes. Okay.” And he hung up. 

 

Gavin inhaled sharply. He hoped it was Connor who was coming in. 

 

Fowler gestured to the chair in front of the desk. “Please take a seat, Reed.”

 

If Gavin had been any less observant of his co workers, he wouldn’t have a clue of how to properly sit in a fucking chair. Thankfully, he’d been seeing Hank in the same seat increasingly often in recent times, so he knew to put his wings over the back, instead of trying to squeeze them to his back. 

 

Fowler folded his hands on top of his desk, infuriatingly patient. “I must say, congratulations. Unfortunately, there’s no such thing as rest unless you’re sick or dead, so I have no choice but to send you out immediately.”

 

A smile creeped onto Gavin’s lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Cap.”

 

“It’s Captain,” Fowler said, “Two syllables. I’m sending you out to central. Here’s the transcript of the call.” And he handed him a paper. 

 

Quickly scanning it, Gavin nodded. “Got it.”

 

“Then go.”

 

As Gavin opened the door, Fowler continued. “And please try not to beat the odds again. We don’t need any more surprises.”

  
  
  
  


Chris was already there by the time Gavin had arrived. Chris was standing just outside of a dingy alley covered in police holo-tape, arms crossed in the biting cold. He was obviously waiting for someone. Besides Chris, there were very few other people there-- just some lab coats and a local news station. Gavin was surprised anyone would bother covering anything like this after the local news went national. Androids were probably far better news than this. 

 

Chris turned around, face morphing into one of surprise. “Damn, she wasn’t kidding.” Chris rubbed the back of his neck, laughing. “You could give a guy a complex with those.”

 

Gavin just stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. His breath puffed out in front of him in wispy puffs of white as he walked past Chris into the alley. 

 

Oh. 

 

“Chris, what the shit is this?”

 

Chris walked up behind him, saying,. “A murder, Reed.”

 

It was an Android. Gavin had seen far worse on humans, but seeing it never made it easier. An android, stripped of its skin down to white plasteel laid dismembered next to a dumpster. Blue blood stained the pristine white of its wings and thoroughly permeated the concrete around it. Its face was grotesquely torn away, sitting a few feet away like a broken mask.

 

“Hey Chris, do we know the model?”

 

“Yeah a, uh…” Chris paused, and glanced back to the techies swarming the scene. One vigorously shook her head, and nodding, Chris continued, “...no we don't, apparently.” 

 

“I thought you could tell just by looking at it?”

 

Chris pointed at the face of the android. “Usually you are, but her face got mauled and you can't read the serial number.”

 

Gavin nodded. Just by looking at the scene he could tell it wasn't planned or organized. It was too messy, too passionate. It was likely that some anti-android schmuck had gotten pissed and in a fit of rage decided to maul some android. Walking around the body, Gavin took a closer look at the arms. Blue handprints. It had been bleeding before they grabbed it. Maybe the kicked it around? Maybe.

 

“Hey labbies,” Gavin called, “got any matches on the fingerprints?”

 

Someone approached and crossed her arms. “We’re still searching the database.”

 

Looking at her, Gavin rolled his eyes. “I figure it was just an act of rage. Once we get the guy in cuffs we can ask him if there was any special reason or if it’s exactly what it seems like.”

 

Chris nodded. “Okay. When it goes through I’ll call you so you can question it.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Yeah.

 

When Gavin walked back to his car he briefly considered just driving home and taking a nap. His neck ached when he turned his head, and it felt like his entire body was like limp pasta, but thinking about the drive home and back to the precinct once the perp was brought in made him reconsider. Way too much effort. So he hopped back into his car and made his way back to the precinct. If he truly needed it, he could use one of the cots they have in the back when people worked long shifts.

 

-

 

An empty lot, occupied by only one person. His clothes were scuffed with dirt, wings considerably stained with mud. He hunched over, whole body shuddering with quiet sobs. 

 

Gavin Reed, behind once again.

 

-

 

At his desk, Gavin filed his report for the scene and finished up a few of the ones he’d been working on earlier in the week.

 

This is how life continued for a few days.

 

People congratulated him on his Manifestation, and Gavin secretly basked in the attention. He was called to countless assaults and murders of androids, questioned more than he could remember, and reveled in the easy routine. He could almost pretend the android revolution never happened.

 

Then one frigid Wednesday, when Gavin’s jaw ached from the cold, he had walked into the precinct to Connor sitting politely across from the Lieutenant. Gavin froze on the spot. Shitshitshitshit, what was he going to do? He’d already confronted the fact that he’d never see Connor again. Maybe if his wings weren’t so fucking big and great he could just ignore him.

 

Gavin thought back to his conversation with Tina. Maybe this could be an opportunity? 

 

Then he remembered. Yeah. An android. 

 

Scoffing at himself he sidled into the break room to snatch some coffee before he started working. As he prodded at the ancient coffee machine to get it to work, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Gavin turned around.

 

Connor’s head snapped back to his desk, LED yellow.

 

Gavin frowned. He hadn’t been told that he Manifested? Gavin, self-conscious all of the sudden, tucked his wings close to his back and turned back to his coffee.

 

The coffee was functionally caffeine sludge, but Gavin couldn’t complain. He got his fix, even if it could be likened to bitter shit water. Once his cup was hot to the touch, he carefully brought it to his desk, sipping it every now and again. 

 

Yeah, that’s awful.

 

He took another sip. 

 

At his desk, he couldn’t help but feeling that prickle down his spine. Instinctively, he first looked at Connor’s desk, but he wasn’t there. He looked back to his desk, but on a whim, he looked directly behind him. His neck craned, but without fail, Connor was standing in Fowler’s box, staring. At him. Gavin must’ve made a face because Connor’s head snapped back, and Hank gave him an odd look while Fowler was ribbing on him. 

 

Gavin was sufficiently weirded out. Settling down into his chair, he absentmindedly picked through some of the smaller feathers on his wings. With another shiver, Gavin turned back to his work, enjoying his coffee crap. Silently he wished a cup of the good stuff would show up on his desk again. 

  
  
  
  


Gavin needed to take a piss. So, like any sane person, he went to the men’s room to do so. However, Gavin did not receive the memo that apparently Connor enjoyed trailing behind people and following them into the fucking bathroom. 

 

Gavin glanced at Connor as he relieved himself. The android had positioned himself right next to the doorway, his feathers ruffled. Gavin felt annoyance bubble at the bottom of his ribcage, and he tried his best to swallow it down, but it frothed and scalded his stomach and boiled over into a scathing remark.

 

“What the fuck, tin can? Why the fuck have you been creeping on my all day? It was fine the first time but after the tenth time I caught you looking at the back of my head it really started to piss me off. And now, following me into the bathroom? What the fuck?”

 

Connor had the decency to look down, ashamed with his ebony wings dropping. “Sorry, Detective, I just…”

 

Gavin strode over to the sink. “Just what?” 

 

Connor looked up. Gavin looked him in the eyes through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. For a cold moment, neither being moved made a sound or dared breathe. They sat in an equilibrium of wills. 

 

Finally, Connor opened his mouth. “To apologize, and make a proposal.”

 

Gavin chose not to vocalize his disbelief but to instead just roll his eyes and move to leave the bathroom. Connor quickly darted out from the doorway and grabbed Gavin’s arm, yanking him back into the tile-lined walls. “Detective, please listen. It may benefit us both.”

 

“Fine. Make it quick.”

 

Connor nodded. “Teach me to be human, and I’ll teach you to fly.”

 

Gavin immediately bristled, his feathers shuddering on his wings. In a fit of anger, he harshly slammed Connor into the wall. “What the fuck did you just say?”

 

“I’ll teach you to fly, Detective. I know you can’t. Flying is innate for anyone who’s Manifested. You didn’t manifest for a large part of your life.” He said them like it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing to acknowledge. Gavin got it-- he was fucking useless, still. Even if he had Manifested. 

 

No one could know. 

 

Swallowing thickly, Gavin released Connor. “What was it you wanted?”

 

His LED flashed a putrid yellow as he looked down, hunching into himself slightly. “I have trouble… relating to those around me. I’m missing something, and I want you to tell me what.”

 

Gavin rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I don’t know your fucken problems, man. How the fuck am I supposed to help you?”

 

“You’re the most “human” person I know.” He said sagely, straightening his jacket. “Detective, you’re chaotic, unpredictable. I believe that’s precisely what humanity is.”

 

For a long moment, Gavin considered flipping him off and telling him to never speak to him ever again. It’d be so easy. He’d never see Connor again, he’d continue with his life, and everything would be okay. 

 

But he still wouldn’t know how to fly. The staff of the DPD was expected to fly in emergencies, hence why he’d needed someone with wings whenever he was deployed. If the situation did arise, he’d be fucking helpless, and everyone would know how much of a god damn  _ fuck up _ Gavin Reed is. 

 

He’s not gonna let that happen. Swallowing his pride, he nodded.

 

“Fine.”

 

Connor’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What?” 

 

“I said fine! Fuck,” He said, rubbing a hand down his face. “Don’t make me regret this.”

 

Smiling, Connor nodded. “I won’t.”

  
Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! I love seeing what you guys have to say. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! leave a comment if u enjoyed :0


End file.
